The Salt-Lick Saloon was just one of many of Ponyville's taverns and pubs. A place for ponies to get together, drink away their problems, meet friends, make enemies, and more. It was a melting pot of backgrounds, with ponies of all walks of life milling together. At one particular table, two stallions sat, each with a drink, one nursing his a bit more heavily.
"So let me get this straight..." started Braeburn, holding his hooves up. "You agreed to help a crazy mare..."
"Eeyup..." said Big Mac, his hoof around a bottle.
"... Who you met when you saw her yellin' at the top of her lungs on a soap box in the middle of town..."
"Mhm..."
"... Go into the Everfree Forest... "
"Eeyup..."
"... One of the most dangerous places in Equestria..."
"...."
"... To find some fabled magical relics and defeat a villain from a foal's tale?"
Big Mac stared at Braeburn with slight irritation, taking a swig from his bottle. "Eeyup."
"Well, Big Mac" said Braeburn with a chuckle, "I'd sure hate to be in your shoes right now." He clopped his hooves together once, shaking his head. "Why did you even agree to do it to begin with?"
Big Mac sighed. "She was gonna go alone..."
Braeburn blinked a few times. "Uh-huh. So... why do you care?"
Macintosh looked at Braeburn as if he had said something horrible. "Can't just let 'er walk into that place alone..." He took a drink from his bottle of hard apple cider, following it up with a drink of water to keep hydrated. "Hopin' I can change 'er mind..."
"Then let her go in alone and get eaten!" Braeburn waved his hooves. "If she's dead set on gettin' herself killed chasin' a fantasy, why let her drag you into it? Why risk your neck for a mare who's focused on ending badly!?"
"'Cause I was raised better" Big Macintosh snorted, taking another swig of his glass of water. "You gonna help me or what?"
Braeburn hummed, tapping his hoof to his chin. "... Why not try to convince her she's wrong?" The yellow stallion smiled. "Yer a good salespony. You could convince somepony the sky was green if ya really wanted to."
Macintosh shook his head. "She's a shaman back home. Doubt it'd work."
Braeburn hummed, tapping his hoof to his chin. "... What if she's not really? What if she's even crazier than she looks and jus' imagined all of her history?" Big Mac gave a sideways glance to his cousin; a stare that stated 'really?' Braeburn hummed. "Yeah, I guess if she was that crazy then makin' her see that'd be somethin' more set for a psychologist than a simple farmpony such as yourself..." Big Mac looked towards Braeburn with a tired expression, shaking his head. He took another deep drink from his cider, following up with a glass of water, and laid his head on the table. "Right right..." Braeburn sighed, pushing his hat back some and scratching his head. "... I'm gonna be honest, Big Mac, this is a right pickle you got yourself in. I've dealt with lots of mares before but never one that was on a quest to save the world from a fairy tale villain. I really have no idea what to say to ya." Big Mac sighed once more, pressing a hoof to the bridge of his nose.
"Nope..." Big Mac sighed, shaking his head.
"Now now..." Braeburn shook his head. "This might still turn out well."
"How ya figure?" Big Mac quirked his brow, hoping his cousin had some sort of insight for him.
Braeburn grinned. "Maybe you can convince her to have a romp in the hay in case you both die?" Big Mac groaned; it was too much to hope for that his cousin would offer him real solace. "What?" Braeburn chuckled. "If yer gonna die anyway, might as well have some fun on yer way out." Braeburn smirked, taking a drink from his own ale. "Heaven knows you could use it." This earned a pointed glare from Macintosh.
"I'm gonna die an' yer makin' jokes."
Braeburn laughed a bit, holding up a hoof. "Okay, look, maybe somethin'll work out..." The yellow stallion sighed a bit, rubbing the back of his head, biting his lip as he thought something over. "If it makes ya feel better, I can tag along."
Big Mac perked his ears and looked at his cousin like he was insane. "Why?"
Braeburn shrugged. "Figure maybe if I go with ya, things won't be so bad... plus, the way I figure it, if things do start lookin' bad, maybe I can find a way to get us out of it. You know me, always got a wacky scheme up my sleeve."
Macintosh stared at his younger cousin for a few seconds, smiling a little. Then, a though struck him, and he frowned instead. "You're jus' hopin' to seduce that zebra mare aren't ya?"
Braeburn didn't respond immediately, but he grinned. "Hey... crazy or not... even I gotta admit she's a looker... quite exotic..." Big Mac groaned, putting a hoof on the bridge of his nose. "What? You can't possibly convince me you ain't stared once or twice?" Macintosh responded with another deep swig from his drink. "Quite a team are we!" Braeburn laughed. Big Mac stood up from the table. "Huh? Where ya goin'?"
"Home" said Big Mac. "Gotta write my will. Let AJ know not to let them bury you near me when we die so I don't strangle yer corpse." He stopped, grabbing his glass of water and drinking from it real quick. Macintosh left, his cousin deciding to remain behind for one reason or another as the larger stallion made his way from the tavern and into the night streets of Ponyville. He looked around at the various buildings, then turned his attention to the clock tower. He sighed, shaking his head, and then began to make his trek in the direction that lead home. Macintosh found himself looking up to the night sky for the first time in what felt to be forever.
I used to look up at the night stars a lot as a colt he thought to himself. They gave me comfort. Inspiration. Fed my imagination. Macintosh smiled a bit, taking in the sight of twinkling celestial bodies. Some days, I'd be the great explorer who went to forgotten lands. Others, I'd be the noble knight who saved a princess... He stopped. Macintosh continued to stare as these memories flooded past him. He let out a long sigh. Better days I guess. He shook his head and continued down the path.
Weird. I used to be able to see the mare on the moon, but not no more. I guess I must have lost that childlike imagination.
"I'm doomed."
Big Mac and Braeburn were trotting along the cobblestone road into town, Big Mac's focus lingering ahead. "You're so negative." Braeburn chuckled.
"Certain death seems like somethin' to be negative about." The two ponies stood in wait by the clock tower as agreed, Macintosh feeling himself tense up all over. In his head, he was pondering just how much he neglected to do before this trip. Did I tell Apple Bloom I loved her? Did I write a good will? Big Mac let out a tired sigh; only noon and already he was wishing the day were over. "See 'er?"
"Nah" Braeburn shook his head, holding a hoof over his eyes as he scanned the area. "Maybe she changed her mind? Came to her senses?"
"Maybe..." Big Mac could only hope.
"Oh! Hi Big Mac! Hi Braeburn!" The two stallions almost jumped and swung around to see a a familiar face; pink coat with a darker pink, curly mane, most of it pulled back with a few locks moving in front of her face. She wore a dress with a baby blue skirt that matched her eyes, and a bodice with a shade of pink to match her mane. "How are my two favorite cousins?"
"Maybe cousins!" Braeburn shouted, eyes wide and hooves flailing. Macintosh smirked, shaking his head.
"Aww, are you just embarrassed cause you had a crush on me before we found out we might possibly be kind of related?" Pinkie giggled a bit as she bounded towards them. Macintosh himself couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Oh Braeburn, it's alright! Nopony thinks you're weird! You didn't even know!"
Braeburn looked around frantically. "Shush! Quiet! Macintosh is going to follow an insane zebra into the Everfree Forest, talk to him!"
Pinkie gasped. "Ooo! Really?" Pinkie turned to Big Mac, bouncing. "You're really gonna go in there? I hear it's dangerous! I hear there's monsters and evil trees and traveling salesponies in the forest! You might die, or end up investing in a timeshare, either one is horrible!"
Big Mac sighed. "Don't imagine you can get me outta this?"
Pinkie shrugged. "I dunno! Is the zebra you're following Zecora?" Macintosh simply nodded. "Well, that's a toughie. What's she want with you?"
Big Mac closed his eyes and sighed. "We're huntin'... for... the Elements of Harmony don't laugh."
"Oh!" Pinkie giggled. "Nope! If she's finally doing that, she's probably not gonna turn back now! She's been trying to get help on that one for months!"
"What?" Big Mac balked. "You know?"
"Yeah, though you're talking an awful lot" said Pinkie, a look of concern on her face. "Need a glass of water?" Macintosh shook his head, and Pinkie simply shrugged. "Right! Well, I met Zecora a few months back when she first got to Ponyville! I gave her the Pinkie Pie Welcome Wagon, and she seemed friendly enough, so we talked, and she told me about her quest and asked me if I wanted to come, and I considered it, but then I remembered I had a lot of work to do here and that that place is a mad house and that I wasn't going anywhere near it because hey, I'm crazy but I'm not that crazy!"
Big Mac sighed. "She did't just go in there anyway?"
"Nope!" Pinkie shook her head. "I don't think she had a reason to! If she thinks she might find the Elements there, then she's likely already antsy to go!" Pinkie nodded sagely. "Yep! Gotta say, Big Mac, the only way out of this is to say 'nope' and I know how hard it is for you to say 'nope' to a mare in need, so I think you're kinda stuck!"
Macintosh sighed and hung his head. "Eeyup."
"See?" Pinkie giggle snorted. "Sorry, little joke, but seriously? Sucks to be you right now." Pinkie noticed Macintosh glaring at her and giggled nervously. "Sorry, that sounded meaner than I intended it to."
Big Mac simply sighed, shaking his head. "Salright..." He looked about, pondering the situation. "Don't imagine you'd come with us?"
"You kidding? I'd get killed! Good luck though!" Pinkie giggle-snorted, before gasping. "I've gotta go! I'll talk to you guys later, be safe and don't die please!" Pinkie turned and merrily bounced away, humming a tune, and Big Mac simply turned and thumped his head against the surface of the clock tower. Braeburn sighed, turning his attention, then reaching to shake Big Mac, who looked up to see the zebra they were waiting for approach, donning her usual cloak. She turned to see them, and seemed a bit surprised by their presence, but also relieved, and approached.
"I must admit, I'm surprised you came..." she said with a nod. "That I had doubts I almost feel shame!"
Big Mac sighed, uttering a single sullen word. "Eeyup..."
Zecora turned to face Braeburn. "And who is this that I see? Another friend to help me?"
The stallion was quick to offer a grin and remove his hat, placing it to his barrel. "Name's Braeburn, ma'am" Braeburn chuckled and moved closer, trying to put on his best seductive face. "And don't be fooled, Big Mac is the friend. I'm the pony who's here to save the day." Macintosh rolled his eyes, and Zecora responded with a confused raise of an eyebrow.
"... Uhm... okay... I see. Now... if you two will follow me?" Zecora turned about and made her way away from the clock tower and on down the road. Big Mac and Braeburn exchanged quick glances; Braeburn grinning and waggling his eyebrows, Big Mac scowling and rolling his eyes before they took to follow her down the cobblestone streets.
Braeburn was quick to catch up to Zecora, walking by her side and clearing his throat. "So! This quest to save Equestria... there's sure to be lots of danger..."
"Indeed..." the zebra responded without looking to him.
"... But... so ya know... I'll be here to protect you." Braeburn smiled his most prize-winning smile. Zecora gave him a sideways glance, but no response. Big Mac hummed; maybe she just didn't know anything to say that rhymed?
"No need. We must not dally in our quest. Arriving sooner would be the best."
Nope, she does. And so, the trio continued to walk. Big Mac let his own eyes wander as he ignored his cousin's failed attempts to woo the zebra. An auto-carriage passed them by, a pony dressed in servant's attire piloting the vehical. He admittedly would enjoy a ride in one, but such things were usually afforded only to particularly wealthy ponies. Applejack, he knew, owned one. He then turned his attention to the school house, wondering how it's sole occupant was doing with no students to teach. Turning his attention once more down the road, the group came upon the wall and, thus, the gate leading out of the town and into the wilderness. Two guards sat on either side, dressed in blue coats and wearing darker blue bucket-helmets on their heads. He turned his attention from them to what lay further down the road, towards their destination.
Towards the Everfree Forest.
Of all of the things Macintosh knew, the Everfree Forest was perhaps the most alien, most mysterious. For as long as he had known, it was a fantasy made real; constantly growing unattended in such a way that every ten years it seemed a little closer to the town. Some feared that some day it would grow through Ponyville, and that they would have to relocate the town or abandon it entirely to the beasts of the unknown forest. Of course, Big Mac always wondered if it might stop, or grow around them, or if they'd find some other means of controlling it; after all, even if it grew around the town, his farm was essentially outside, and would likely be consumed itself. Even if it took a hundred years, Macintosh wasn't sure he could leave a doomed farm to his grandchildren.
As the group left the town, Big Mac put these thoughts behind him. It was then he felt a tingle wash over him; that bittersweet realization that he still had a chance to turn back, to shrug the mare off, and to return to his safe routine. That he could save his (and maybe his idiot cousin's) skin(s) right now if he just put his hoof down and told the mare she was crazy. He might be able to save her, maybe not, but was there any sense in getting all of them killed just to make her feel better? He cast a nervous glance back into the town, then towards his companions, his cousin still beside the zebra, saying who knew what to her. He wanted so badly to stop this, but he could not bring himself to say a word. Instead, he sighed and hung his head.
The trio approached the mouth of the forest before coming (mostly) to a halt. "Everfree Forest..." said Braeburn, staring upon it with awe. "Home of monsters. Of lost legends of yore, of plants so strange that they are almost considered animals in their own right..." The stallion smirked. "They say nopony who's ever gone in here has ever come back out."
The stallions looked to notice that Zecora was still walking. "Are we going to tread into the trees? Or are you done enjoying the breeze?" Big Mac and Braeburn exchanged glances.
"Coming!" Braeburn shouted, hurrying after Zecora. Big Mac simply shook his head. The sight was indeed humbling, and made him worry even more, but now he felt there was no turning back. 'That ain't true' he thought to himself. You just can't bring yourself to do it even though you know it's for everypony's best interest.' He let loose one more sigh of defeat and, with much trepedition, he set one hoof across the threshold, and stepped into the forest.
As they pushed deeper into the forest, Big Macintosh found himself growing more and more at a loss of words. His whole life he had heard tales of the Everfree Forest, and while he had always believed it to be dangerous, he was never quite sure if he believed the legends, and yet he saw them; plants that seemed to move of their own volition, animals that he had only heard of in stories... Zecora had even stopped Braeburn and himself from stepping into some strange blue weeds she called 'Poison Joke'. While they had yet to run into any horrible monsters or evil spirits, Big Macintosh decided to count his blessings and hope some of the legends of this place proved exaggerated.
'Maybe I'm hopin' against hope, but what if Braeburn was right?' Thought Big Mac. 'What if the Everfree Forest isn't as dangerous as the legends say?'
Macintosh found his attention shifting to the ponies that accompanied him, though they were still leading the way as earlier. Things had fallen silent a while ago, Braeburn seeming to have hit a wall in his plan to win over an exotic mare. 'He ain't givin' up that easily. Just thinking up a new method of attack. Big Macintosh smirked to himself, shaking his head.
"So..." began Braeburn, seeming as though he might be trying to act casual. "This place that yer from... what's it like?"
Zecora kept her expression as it had been, not taking her eyes from the path as she replied. "My home is one of struggle and toil. The sun burned bright and beat on the soil. The nights brought wind as cold as death." She shrugged. "Struggle thrived in every breath."
Braeburn winced a bit. "Ah... sounds eh... crappy."
Zecora chuckled. "The wind is fair in your land... but home is home, do understand." She sighed a bit , looking to the sky. "For though I've left, and strayed away... 'tis in my home my heart will stay."
"I see, I see..." Braeburn hummed, clucking his tongue a bit. "Any family?"
"My mother died during my birth. My father, a warrior, returned to the earth." Braeburn opened his mouth to offer condolences, but she stopped him with a gesture. "Do not pity me, I knew neither, and so to me the burden is lighter. I was raised by the previous sage; she was my mother, until she passed of old age."
Breaburn nodded. "You sound quite strong."
"So I am told by those of my tribe." Zecora snorted. "Most ponies disagree; to that I subscribe."
"Pfft! Ponies are boneheaded" proclaimed Braeburn with a raise of his snout. Big Mac shook his head a bit. 'That's the pot callin' the kettle a pot.' "They jus' don't know what you've been through. I bet if they did, they'd take you more seriously."
"That may be, but 'tis not my concern. 'Tis not their love I wish to earn..." Zecora said, shaking her head a bit. "I seek not approval, or their accolades; only to banish the darkness before it invades."
Braeburn clicked his tongue again, turning his attention back down the road. Macintosh shook his head, smirking. 'Exotic means she's also got a different way of thinking, Brae. Fantasies are funny because they typically ignore that.'
It was then he realized that he and his companions had happened upon a sight that seemed odd; a massive tree stump. The tree itself, however, seemed like it might have been converted into a house. "Well, lookie here..." Braeburn mused. "It's like a hut! I wonder who lived here... or still lives here... I bet it's some kind of witch who cooks evil brews and stuff..."
"Welcome to my home, you two" said Zecora without any hint of malice, but maybe a little love for irony, "I hope it is not too dirty for you?" Braeburn bit his lip, and Big Mac simply could not suppress laughing a little, and he could see even Zecora was trying not to smirk at his cousin's nervous trembling. After a few seconds, however, the larger stallion came to a realization.
"You live in the Everfree Forest!?" It was loud enough to hurt his throat, though he only winced slightly. Braeburn bit his lip, looking at him as if he might have done something harsh.
Zecora nodded, stepping into the tree. "'Tis a good place to be to keep privacy." Macintosh hummed, supposing he could not really argue that particular point.
"Why didn't ya say so" he said, voice a little scratchy. Zecora seemed to raise a brow, and he held up a hoof, reaching into his bag and withdrawing a canteen, taking a thankful drink from it. The zebra continued to stare at him curiously for a few moments before shrugging it off.
"I tried to tell you when you got upset. You would not let me speak, so I see your regret." Turning around, Zecora walked into the hut. "You are my guests, so please come on in. We'll get some supplies for before we begin."
The two stallions simply walked around the hut, Big Mac finding himself once more letting his gaze wander about. There were various masks and artifacts on the wall of unknown relevance. There was a bookshelf nearby that was filled with various books, some that seemed to have writing on the spines that were not in Equestrian; likely from her homeland. Another thing Big Mac noticed was a cauldron in the middle of the room, and nearby a table with various bottles and herbs, a bowl with a mixer in it.
"Wow. Nice pad ya got here" said Braeburn. "Very... Shaman-y."
"These masks ward evil and bring good health. Piece of mind is the greatest of their wealth." Zecora trotted into the next room and began rummaging through a chest. "They protect my home from darker things, to whom only evil and cruelty sings."
"So what, are these things magic?" Braeburn let his eyes wander, more than once from the masks to the zebra, once in a while focusing a bit too long on her rump for Big Mac's comfort.
"Magic of a sort, I guess one might say. Though their effects are passive at the end of the day. They won't change fate or alter time and space, but they will bring safety and peace to this place." Big Mac caught Braeburn staring at her flanks again, and then the stallion swatted his cousin upside the back of his head, knocking his hat off. Braeburn fumed and picked the hat up from the floor, setting it back on his head and fixing his cousin with a glare.
"Very interestin'" said Braeburn as he turned his attention back to Zecora, who trotted back into the room wearing a saddlebag. "Why don't we bring some of those things with us?"
"They will not help with what we might need" said Zecora. "The biggest threat is the monsters we can feed. For all other cases, I've many a tool. Potions and brews, without which I'd be a fool." Zecora trotted about and placed saddlebags on each of the stallions' backs. "you both have some potions and brews now in tow. Do not use them unless I say so."
"What kinda potions?" Braeburn wondered out loud.
"Potions that cure most poisons, that nullify magic, that burn when exposed to oxygen, that can eat through flesh, and a brew that wards away evil spirits." Braeburn stared wide-eyed at the mare, looking to the bag on his back.
"Potions that null magic and curse, remove poisons and hexes and things so much worse. Potions that burn when touched by the air, and brews that ward evil with mixtures quite fair."
Braeburn and Big Mac stood stock still for a moment, silent. He didn't want to ask, but he had to. Braeburn tried to play it cool, clearing his throat. "So, if these bottles break-"
"The mixture will violently expand, and fire will incinerate you where you stand." She said without so much as a twitch.
Braeburn and Big Mac exchanged glances once again, eyes twitching. "G-guess we should be careful then... right?"
Macintosh looked at the saddlebag on his back and gulped. 'I'm carryin' death on my back right now.' "Eeyup..."
Zecora made her way towards the door. "Let us make haste and leave this place. The castle is in the forest deep... but who knows what lurks in that old keep." As she stepped outside, Braeburn and Big Mac exchanged glances once more then followed her; both trying to be sure not to jostle the contents of their bags too much. "The castle of the royal sisters will surely thrive with floral blisters. The things that may have made it home can be small or big... or overgrown." Zecora turned to face the stallions, an expression of utter seriousness on her face. "If we are to be safe, you must follow me, lest you be lost to the Everfree."
"Eeyup..."
"If we are ready to make this trip..." said Zecora with a sigh, "Then as Pinkie says 'make a hop and a skip.' Our journey shouldn't be too overly long, but I suggest we return while the sun is still strong." With a nod to her companions, Zecora made her way out of the hut, Macintosh and Braeburn remaining close behind. They trotted down the path, and slowly, the cousins let Zecora gain a bit of distance, Braeburn leaning in close to Big Mac. "Okay" he said quickly, "This ain't fun no more. She's cold and unresponsive to my advances, an' I'm fairly certain she's tryin' to kill us at this point, givin' us enough volatile chemicals to make the Bereau of Unusual Armaments edgy." He looked back to Zecora to make sure she wasn't hearing anything. "Maybe we should cut our losses, head back, and let 'er do whatever she's gonna do."
Big Macintosh sighed, however, shaking his head. "Nope."
"What?" whispered Braeburn. "Why not!?"
"In too deep" responded Big Mac. He kept his eyes open and ears perked, alert for anything that might occur, though he turned to see his cousin giving him large, pleading eyes. "Don't blame me. You wanted this, you got it."
"She's gonna kill us!"
"Took ya this long to figure that?" Macintosh frowned. He reached for his canteen, stealing another quick drink.
Braeburn growled. "Fine! But if we die in here, I will never speak to you again!"
"Deal."
Their quarrel settled, the two stallions hurried to catch back up to the zebra leading their way through the madness, her own attention seeming sharply focused on the path ahead of her, shifting left and right. Macintosh continued trying the same, but at this point he had realized that all he could see were terrifying trees.
Wait a minute.
The large stallion balked a bit and fell back on his haunches, holding a hoof up defensively. Braeburn stopped, confused, and began to look around, and when realization hit him, he leaped into the air, landing in his cousin's hooves, wrapping his forelegs around his neck. "Whoa! What in Tartarus is that!?"
Zecora stopped, looking to the two stallions and then to the trees. "They are but trees... do they scare you?" She raised a brow. "Do you not live in a field of them, you two?"
"They're gonna eat us!" shouted Braeburn, pointing a trembling hoof. Zecora smirked, looking like she might laugh. "'These trees are no more likely to do you harm than those apple trees you grow on your farm." She waved a hoof at the area. "'Tis a trick of the forest, a joke on your eyes. These are but ordinary trees with a baleful disguise." She turned away from the stallions, stepping forward. "Accept this, and their disguise will fall. But we must hurry, so please, do not stall."
Macintosh unceremoniously dropped his cousin to the floor, looking at the trees carefully. Suddenly, he noticed that they did indeed just seem to be ordinary trees; the faces faded, and menacing branches normal. Why, he couldn't help but smile and laugh a bit at himself. 'How silly of me. Pinkie will just love to hear this story.' Braeburn picked himself up, dusting himself off, looking at the trees; unlike Macintosh, he remained nervous and a little on edge, and as Macintosh began to walk forward again, Braeburn remained behind him a bit.
Deeper into the forest they traveled, observing and analyzing. The deeper they walked, Macintosh realized, the more fantastical things seemed to become, with bigger, more alien plants seeming to grow in darker areas, and the few animals that they saw were unlike anything he had seen before. Macintosh, however, began to feel uncomfortable; a little nagging sensation in his brain, some sense of disquiet putting him on edge. He noticed that the birds had stopped chirping, and once in a while he'd see a bush rustle, and notice movement in the corner of his eye. It was then, however, that Zecora held her hoof up, gesturing for them to stop. Her ears perked, and eyes darted left and right, up and down.
"Shh.... listen... do you hear....?" she said in a whisper, just loud enough for Macintosh to hear her words. Her ears continued to swivel, and Macintosh found himself trying to listen in as well; he wondered if her hearing might be better than his? Zecora grimaced. "... We are not alone I fear..."
"Just perfect" said Braeburn, trembling a bit. Macintosh himself felt a slight tremble, though he tried to remain cool. The world seemed to freeze momentarily. Stillness. Quiet.
And then a rumbling.
"Get in the bushes!" Whisper-shouted Zecora. Macintosh and Braeburn both jumped to separate sides as the rumbling grew louder, the sound of twigs and branches snapping becoming obvious. Suddenly, several large, wooden canine creatures burst through the clearing, their twig-and-branch bodies surging with power and might as they ran, not pausing, not slowing, continuing down their set path. Slowly, the rumbling began to fade as the creatures vanished into the distance. Braeburn climbed from his own hiding spot, rubbing his head a bit. "Huh... that was easier than I thought it'd be."
"What are you doing you fool!?" Whispered Zecora harshly. Before Braeburn could inquire to her meaning, however, a loud thump froze him in place. Another made him jump slightly. A few more, and then a deep, horrible warmth upon his back, followed by a putrid smell. A deep sniff made him whimper as he remained stock still. Macintosh could only stare in absolute horror as his cousin was sized up by the single most terrifying creature he had ever seen; a body that of a lion, but a large pair of leathery wings jutting from its back and a scorpion tail. It was an unnatural entity, one that Macintosh had heard of, but never seen.
'Manticore'
Macintosh kept his eye trained on Braeburn, who, to his credit, did not even tremble, likely terrified beyond the point of being able to. Both stallions wondered if the creature would simply lose interest and leave, though Macintosh felt worried as this simply seemed to make the creature curious. Has it never seen the 'play dead' trick before? After a few seconds, however, this seemed to bore the animal, and it opened it's mouth, making a reach for Braeburn.
Instinct kicked in.
"Nope!"
The sound seemed to startle the beast, that looked up from its prey to see Macintosh's form lunge from a nearby bush, skidding on his front hooves and shifting so his rear was to the creature, lifting his hind-legs and delivering a powerful buck to the beast's face, throwing it backwards and into a nearby tree.
"Run!" shouted Zecora, leaping from a bush and throwing a bottle to the ground that burst into a cloud of smoke that Macintosh quickly noticed had a horrible, rancid smell that he was certain would burn his nose for the rest of the day. Braeburn came to his senses, and without a second thought, all three ponies made a mad dash away from the monster as an enraged roar filled the forest air. "We cannot outrun this gargantuan beast" shouted Zecora, "We must outsmart it, or become a feast!"
Macintosh twisted and turned his head, trying to keep attention on the path before them and attempting to formulate a plan at the same time. Suddenly, Braeburn grinned. "Keep runnin', I got a plan!" He reached his head back, grabbing his saddlebag from his back and threw it as hard as he could into the Manticore's path. It struck the beast with great force, and burst into a cloud of shreaded cloth and various mixtures. The Manticore stopped, going into a fit of sneezing. Still running, Braeburn turned to Zecora. "You said it'd explode!"
"A fib to make sure you took care of my supplies" yelled Zecora. "Clever nonetheless, so that's a surprise!" A loud roar shook the forest, and the ponies sped up. "It bought us a few seconds, at least! We must find a way to fell the beast!"
Just then, Macintosh felt his world shift violently as his hoof caught on a root, throwing him over and tumbling across the ground. Braeburn stopped, eyes wide. "Big Mac!" He stumbled a bit and turned to hurry back to his cousin, a wide-eyed Zecora following suit. Macintosh tried to get back to his hooves, but winced and hissed through his teeth and fell to his side again. He looked down to his hoof; there were no odd angles, thankfully, but he had managed to do something to it, and now it would not support him. "Big Mac! Get up!" Braeburn grabbed his cousin's leg and helped him to his hooves. "We gotta run!"
"Injured" hissed Macintosh. "Run."
Braeburn's mouth moved wordlessly, eyes wide. "Don't argue Brae. Jus' run!" However, a loud thud turned their attention back to the manticore. It's eyes were bloodshot and watery, it had several polka-dots on it's face, and it seemed to be slightly drowsy, but that all seemed subverted by a great deal of anger. The three ponies stared, wide-eyed as the beast drew closer. Macintosh, supported by Braeburn, simply frowned. "I'm sorry Braeburn."
"For what?" Said Braeburn, not taking his eyes off the creature.
"For this." Big Mac sighed. "I shoulda listened to you."
"It's okay cuz..." Braeburn frowned, his eyes getting a bit wet. "I'm sorry too."
"For what?"
"I'm the one who farted and ruined Hearths-Warming Day."
Macintosh frowned a bit. But then he smirked. And then he laughed, shaking his head and sighing. "Salright..."
Braeburn gulped. "Will this hurt?"
"Probably." Macintosh grimaced a bit at the thought, and the scratch in his voice. "Wonder if Zecora has anythin' in these bags that'll at least let us not feel anything?"
Just then, a jar flew from outside their field of view and shattered on the creature. it let out a great roar of anger.
That shrank into a tiny mewl.
Along with the creature itself.
Mac and Braeburn stared at the beast, now looking to be little more than a tiny house-cat (though still having the tail and a pair of tiny wings that likely could not carry it). The two stallions exchanged glances and looked to Zecora, who rushed to their side, her own eyes wide. The small creature pounced on Big Mac, batting at his leg with tiny, weak paws, hissing and growling and biting. Macintosh winced and kicked it off. "Stop that."
The creature hissed, jumped at him and plunged its stinger into his leg. Macintosh yelped as it turned tail and fled into the forest. "Ow! That nasty little-"
"Be calm my friend, it has gone away" said Zecora, rushing to Macintosh and reaching into her saddlebag. "Do not move too much, or else you shall pay!" Big Mac looked at her with a puzzled look on his eyes as she pulled another small bottle from her bag. "The small size made its strikes weak and lame, but just a drop of its poison is deadly the same. Move too much, it'll spread much quicker, and your life will burn out with but a flicker." Macintosh froze once more, eyes wide, as Braeburn stared in utter horror. "But you have to worry not; a remedy old Zecora has got." She popped the bottle open, holding it over Mac's wound, and poured a strange sludge from it. Macintosh winced as she rubbed it in, her hooves oddly gentle to the touch; the sensation burned at first, but became soothing very quickly. She quickly pulled up a bottle and popped it open. "Drink this fast, please make haste, and do not mind the bitter taste." Big Mac nodded, grabbing it and gulping it down, but finding himself gagging at the horrid taste, forcing the fluid (more like a sludge itself, really) down his throat. "To the worst of the toxin you now shall not die..." Zecora frowned. "Though... you'll still get the edge... and suffer a hallucination high."
Macintosh frowned. "What?"
Zecora grabbed some bandaging and wrapped it around his leg. "Some of the toxin these wraps shall draw out, to hasten your recovery and bring healing about." He had to admit, he was feeling a bit light-headed and woozy. Suddenly, Zecora began to morph to the side, and grew a fifth leg. "I assume it has already begun... This could be frightening, or it could be fun." Macintosh stared at her, wide-eyed.
"Y'alright cuz?" Big Mac turned to see Braeburn staring at him... except he had three heads. "You don't look too good." And then one of the heads fell off, growing legs at its neck and running up Braeburn's side. Big Mac blinked a few times, sweating heavily and began to pant, his heart racing. The trees began to reach down for him, and he pulled himself into the dirt.
Back in reality, Braeburn watched Big Mac shove himself into the ground, whimpering like a foal. "What the hay is wrong with him!?"
Zecora simply sighed, shaking her head. "Having a spirit quest... without the preparation that makes it best."
"Spirit quest?"
Zecora smirked. "Zebras use this poison-"
"Many a brew, I know" said Braeburn holding a hoof up. "How long will this last?"
Zecora frowned. "In Manticore poison unrefined...?" She stopped, tapping a hoof to her chin. "Thirty minutes... and that's being kind."
Light.
He could see light.
It hurt.
His leg hurt.
His body hurt.
"Big Mac? You wakin' up?"
"Hnn...?"
"You ain't freakin' out?"
"Mmm..."
His throat was really dry and sore. He wanted to ask why, but it hurt too much. "Can you understand me? Just nod or shake your head." Macintosh nodded. "Okay, good. Don't panic, Zecora said you might not remember, but you got a bit hysterical." Macintosh frowned, opening his eyes and seeing a blurry yellow blob that vaguely resembled a stallion. "You started screamin' and shoutin'... an'... uh... " Braeburn rubbed the back of his head. "Kinda... cried for a bit there... so your throat might be awful sore right now."
Well, at least that was one question answered.
"Also, Zecora said you might feel a bit-"
Suddenly, every muscle in Macintosh's body shot awake in one all-consuming goal. A desire that no body could ignore, that it had to do even if he did not permit it. He sat upwards, leaning to his side and lurched forward, vomiting violently into the ground next to him. Braeburn jumped to the side a bit as the larger stallion emptied the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor. After a few purgings, he panted and heaved, gasping for beautiful air, letting out a few dry heaves, feeling his heart beat against his chest like it might jump out. It had been years since Macintosh had thrown up, and he couldn't say that it was a singularly pleasant experience.
"Y'okay Big Mac?" Macintosh responded with a simple nod, still panting and heaving, but certain that the sickness had passed. "Yeah. Here, drink some water..." Braeburn held a canteen to Big Mac, who took it and drank greedily from the flask. The water soothed his aching throat, though he noticed a hint of a honey flavor. He panted a bit, feeling the pain fade, looking up to his cousin.
"How long was I out...?" he asked in a tired, scratchy voice.
"Well..." Braeburn hummed. "You were tripping for about thirty minutes. Screamed a lot, cried, and thought a twig was goin' to eat you. You eventually cried yourself to sleep, passing out for fifteen minutes..." Macintosh frowned a bit. "An' eh, don't worry. I don't count 'high-crying' as crying, so I won't pick on ya for it."
"Thanks" Macintosh shook his head, panting still. "Need food..."
"Yeah" Braeburn winced. "Zecora went to get some stuff. She says not to try to eat until she gets back." Big Mac sighed.
'Well, this trip is interesting if nothing else.'
Suddenly, a rustle drew both his and Braeburn's attention to a pair of bushes, from which Zecora emerged. "Ah!" she said, smiling. "Macintosh, you are awake! Much sooner than I did anticipate!" She sat a bottle next to him. "Your spirit quest went well, and by those I've seen before? Had you been of my tribe, you'd be a warrior." Macintosh smirked. Him? A warrior? He could just imagine himself wearing Zebra tribal gear, a spear in his mouth. Zecora held up a bottle. "Drink this special brew that I have made for you. It will ease your stomach and let you eat, which, as you may have seen, is no easy feat." Macintosh nodded, taking the bottle, opening it, and drinking; it wasn't too bad, even tasted slightly sweet. As he finished it up, he sat it down. Zecora pat his shoulder. "Do not strain yourself too hard for an hour or so... you need to regain your strength as we go."
"As we go?" Big Macintosh frowned.
"Indeed" Zecora nodded. "We must get to the castle before the sun's fall, lest we see things that would dwarf a manticore's brawl." That certainly wasn't an appealing idea. Macintosh eased himself up, but felt a sharp pain in his hoof. "Careful, you've injured your hoof in our dash. A small break, so do not be brash." Macintosh sighed.
'At least it's just small.'
He looked to the offending hoof, a makeshift splint formed from two planks and some bandaging. "You bring these planks with you?"
"Of course" said Zecora with a nod. "I'm always prepared, especially such a quest as we've shared." Macintosh hummed, nodding.
'I can respect a prepared mare'
Braeburn came to Macintosh's side. "Here cuz, I'll help ya keep balance." Big Mac smirked, shaking his head, waving his hoof a bit.
"I can walk" he said with a nod. "Jus' not fast."
Braeburn seemed to acknowledge this, and gave him a little space, though remained close. Zecora settled Macintosh's saddlebag onto Braeburn's back, and gave him a look. "Do not throw these lest I say if we are to survive the day."
"Alright, I won't..." Braeburn sighed. "Just be more honest from now on so I don't do something that stupid again."
"Deal" said Zecora with a nod.
Braeburn smirked. "That didn't rhyme."
"Teal."
The stallions looked at each other. "What? That doesn't even mean anything!" Braeburn shouted, waving a hoof.
Zecora simply chuckled. "A rhyme is all for which you did ask. Not conversation of a meaningful task."
Braeburn held a hoof up, stopped, and frowned. "Yeah, you got me there."
Zecora looked up to the sky. "It's not much further from the castle now. Let us make like the wind, not a sullen sow."
Zecora and Braeburn stepped forward, Macintosh following close behind, favoring his injured hoof. He hummed, looking around at the trees. Well, at least the manticore's gone... still... I can't help but feel like something is still watching us...
TO BE CONTINUED...